


As It Was

by fhsa_archivist



Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-11
Updated: 2004-04-11
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:53:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12800229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Dedication: For the person who wanted my last AB crossover fic to be an Asher one. This one's for you.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

The Hellmouth was no one's territory. 

 

No Master of the City controlled it. There wasn't an Ulfric or a Nimir-Ra to control the local packs or pards. This was for one major reason, it seemed - all of the 'monsters' on the Hellmouth were warped, twisted, deformed in some way. There were few of them, and justly so. The vampires, for instance, changed into horrid creatures that looked more animal than human when they grew excited or hungry. At that point they bore no resemblance to members of their own 'kind' that had been created in other parts of the world. These creatures were anathema, forbidden. They were, in fact, kill on sight, even to the members of law enforcement. 

 

Enter the Slayer. 

 

The one girl in the entire world chosen to fight the forces of darkness. In older times that had meant she was able to slaughter countless numbers of vampires, shapeshifters, and other harmless creatures without a second thought. In these more civilized times it meant nothing more than patrolling the Hellmouth and keeping those misfits out of the normal areas of the world. She worked in loose conjunction with the police to help maintain order and to keep the dangerous creatures that Hell sent forward from ever reaching a major city. 

And so, when the Slayer died, and the one that had been called to take her place at another time was still locked away in jail for a crime she committed in the human world, there was no one left to maintain the order. The Vampire Council, full of wisdom and, perhaps, spite, decreed that one of it's least favorite Masters should send some of his people to keep order until such time as they could work through the proper legal channels to secure the release of the dark-haired Slayer. 

 

Jean-Claude was upset and angered by this. But he had no choice. He and his people had only narrowly escaped the wrath of the Council once. It would do no one any good to try to come up against them in something like this and would, in all respects, probably only get them all killed. The Council didn't care that he needed his people there, with him, in St. Louis, to secure his own power base. They didn't care for the petty machinations that were always underfoot in that city. Nor did they care that he only had one person he could trust with the task and that sending him away would be devastating to Jean-Claude. 

 

Or maybe they did realize all of this, and did it anyway. Spiteful though they were, the Council was definitely not stupid. 

 

And so it was that Asher and some select others made their way to the Hellmouth - to Sunnydale.


	2. Part 1

Giles frowned, dropping the letter from the Watcher's Council to the table. He couldn't believe it. A month after Buffy's death, after he and the remaining children he had cared so much for and tried so hard to protect had done their damnedest to keep the Hellmouth safe and trouble-free; the Watcher's Council, in conjunction with the Vampire Council, had come to the decision that they would intervene. 

 

"They're sending a bloody vampire to patrol the Hellmouth. How ironic." He muttered, glaring at the letter. Whatever had possessed them to do this was beyond him. But, it also was no longer his concern. His flight back to England would be leaving in less than two hours. He prayed, for the sake of Willow and Xander, that this newcomer would have what it took to keep them safe. 

 

The phone rang, breaking the silence of the house and Giles' thoughts. He picked up the receiver, his voice steady as he spoke. "Hello?" 

 

"Hey Giles. Just calling to make sure you still need us over there at two and not sooner." 

 

The former watcher paused for a moment. He needed to tell them about what was going to arrive in the next couple days. Better to have them come over earlier. "Actually, Willow, if you and Xander could come over about ten minutes before that it would be perfect." 

 

"Okie. See you in a little while." Willow chirped, hanging up the phone. 

 

Giles stood there for a moment, the empty dial tone in his ear, wondering if he was doing the right thing by leaving them here to deal with it all by themselves. He was certainly no use as he currently was, however. His doctor had told him that he needed to cut back on any stressful activities before he ended up giving himself a heart attack. Willow and Xander knew that, of course. He doubted they begrudged him this time away; he needed the time to relax and let his body heal itself of the damage he had caused it over the past few years by playing superhero with them. 

 

And it had been so long since he saw England, his home. 

 

He sat down on the couch, placing the phone back into its cradle. His eyes shut as he leaned his head back, taking a moment of rest before Xander and Willow arrived. 

 

~*~*~ 

 

"Does anyone else see something wrong with this situation?" Xander asked, looking around the room. Besides himself and Willow, Anya was also present for the conversation taking place in Giles' living room. 

"A vampire protecting the Hellmouth?" 

 

"Oh come on, Xander." Willow sighed, giving her best friend a sad look. "We need all the help we can get. And besides, those vampires out there are different from the ones we grow here at home." 

 

The dark haired young man snorted, shaking his head. "Just sounds like we're importing trouble, to me." 

 

"Well we really don't have much of a choice in the matter." Giles spoke up, giving Xander a measuring look. He knew the boy didn't like this. For that matter, Giles himself didn't like it. But there was no choice. This new vampire would be arriving any day now, complete with entourage, to help the 'crisis' in Sunnydale until the Watcher's Council could finish whatever legal maneuvering they were engaging in to get Faith released from prison. 

 

Not that she was a much better choice for Sunnydale's protector. She had, at one point, schemed to do things that would have destroyed everyone living in the town. In fact, in light of those memories, the vampire actually seemed to be the more logical choice - at least one knew what to expect from those creatures, Faith was totally unpredictable. 

 

Xander frowned, crossing his arms. His head shook with vehement anger. "This is a bad idea." 

 

"And again, Xander. I have no control over it. Should I be regretting telling you this in the first place? Should I have let you find out for yourselves?" 

 

"No - no!" Willow cried out, glaring at her best friend. She turned to Giles, apologetic. "Don't mind him, it's just a shock is all. And, to top it all off, you're leaving. It all around sucks." 

 

"Sucking -is- what vampires are known for." Anya chimed in. "I was also known for sucking around the seventeenth century. But that's a different story altogether." 

 

"An - you. I can't believe. Like I really needed to know that. Why...?" Xander threw his hands up in frustration, adding his girlfriend to his list of unfavorite people for the day. 

 

Giles sighed, taking off his glasses and polishing them on the edge of the t-shirt he was wearing. For once his clothing had been chosen more out of a need for comfort than for a desire to dress in any particular style of fashion. He sighed, glancing at the clock. "We need to be going, children, if I am to catch my plane on time." 

 

Willow's face fell, her eyes tearing up at the mention of the very reason they were there in the first place. They were driving Giles to the airport. He was leaving them. Leaving them with a vampire to take care of everything. She sighed, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Gonna miss you, Giles." 

 

"And I shall miss you, Willow. You can always call or write, however. And I will come back and visit, don't you worry." 

 

She nodded. The house was still full of furniture and she looked at him blearily, curious. "Not taking the rest of your things?" 

 

The former Watcher shook his head. "The Council purchased the house and the furniture in it from me. I am assuming it will be given to their new lackeys when they arrive." 

 

That statement, of course, set Xander off on another tirade about the ineffectiveness of sending a vampire to contain the Hellmouth. It was a short tirade, though, and before Willow knew it they were leaving the house for the last time, taking Giles to the airport. 

 

'And so it ends.' Willow thought glumly, watching with teary eyes as her surrogate father flew off back to his homeland.


	3. Part 2

The next night found Xander and Willow wandering through the graveyard. Anya had chosen to stay at home, something for which Willow was particularly grateful. It wasn't that she didn't like the former demon, she just didn't like the way the woman acted. The constant little girl whining and out of line comments got old after a while. Maybe if she would at least -try- to get over her very obvious social faults it would be a little easier to become her friend. At this rate, though, Willow was pretty sure that the demon was forever to remain in the category of 'my friend's girlfriend' and never quite make it to being her own friend. 

 

"Fangface at twelve o'clock." 

 

Willow looked to where Xander was pointing, sighing. Why couldn't the stupid fledge have stayed in the ground until -after- they were done patrolling? She was tired and ready to just go home and sleep, not slay the newly risen. The past two nights had been slow, why couldn't this one be, too? "Yours or mine?" 

 

"Yours." Xander shrugged. At one point in their lives staking a vampire had been a life or death situation, something to get the blood rushing and the heart pounding. A team effort. Now it was so routine that they took turns. He wrinkled his nose, the smell of freshly turned earth heavy in the air. It was one of those smells that you either really enjoyed, like gardeners did, or really hated. The fledgling was still looking around, trying to orient itself, and never saw Willow sneak up, stake in hand. It looked like just another textbook staking was about to take place. 

 

Until the vampires hiding next to the mausoleum stepped into view. 

"Back off, witch." 

 

Willow felt herself yanked from the earth. She felt the air rush past her as she was tossed, head first, towards the same mausoleum the vampires had used as a hiding spot. Twisting in mid-air, the red head managed to hit the cold stone with her back and not her head. That didn't mean the landing was without pain, though. She struggled for a breath, her back aching. Through tears of pain she could see Xander, surrounded by a gang of at least five vampires, with another standing off to one side. They all looked newly made. Someone had been a busy little bloodsucker. "Xan..." 

 

"So now we finally get to deal with the Slayer's pet humans." The oldest of the group, a female, growled. She was standing near the others, though far enough away that it was pretty clear that she was the leader. They were her children. She was their master. Her game face was out, eyes a yellowish amber color. "The two of you are nothing without that bitch around. She was a weak little whore." 

 

The sound of the vampire speaking in such a foul way about Buffy tore a growl from Willow's throat. She rose, her legs unstable, stake in hand, and advanced towards the vampires. 

 

"Please, witch. Can't you see I'm dealing with -him- right now? I'll get to you, don't worry." 

 

A heavy hand came down across Willow's face, knocking her to the ground. A sob escaped her lips. There was no way she could make it to Spike's crypt, get him to help and get back in time to save Xander. For that matter, she doubted she could make it a few steps before either the head vamp's minions grabbed her or she fell down from the pain in her back. 

 

"Let the boy go." 

 

'Okies... I must have been hit too hard.' The young witch thought dully, her eyes unfocused, blind from pain. 'I'm hearing some guy with a sexy French accent telling her to let Xander go...Frenchie to the rescue...' 

 

She laughed, the sound barely bubbling past her lips before she gave in to the unconsciousness that had been waiting to overtake her. 

 

~*~*~ 

 

"My love, come to me." 

 

She turned, a smile gracing her lips. Her eyes were those of the bedroom, half-lidded and full of barely concealed passion. And they were completely for the man lying on the bed. Stretched out, half propped on pillows, he could have been a Greek god and not an aristocratic French man. His long blonde hair fell in unbound waves around his head and shoulders. 

 

Picking up the skirts of the overly formal dress she was wearing to the banquet that evening, the woman made her way to the bed. Her smile had turned into something not as innocent, a look that was hungry and desiring. 

 

"You are beautiful." 

 

"And you, my darling, are divinity itself." 

 

The man grinned, a flash of teeth. "Allow me to show you heaven, then?" 

 

He lifted the heavy skirts of her dress, pulling her into his lap until she was straddling his waist. In moments they were locked in an embrace of passion, her warmth holding tight to his hardness. She was moaning, and so was he, their cries mixing. He pulled back from her lips, the pupils of his eyes faded to nothing more then pinpoints, lost amidst the color of his eyes. His mouth opened, fangs barely visible, and he fastened onto her neck. She screamed in orgasm, the power of his mind alone bringing her to the heights of ecstasy. Within her she could feel him giving into his own passions as he suckled gently from the wound on her neck. 

 

"Love you..." She whispered, her eyes closing. Her hand came up to stroke his hair, admiring the beautiful color of it through the haze of desire still hanging over her vision. 

 

The vampire lifted his head, licking his lips to be sure there were no stray drops of her blood upon them. He turned her sleepy face to him, smiling down at her, the expression joyous. "And I love you, my Julianna." 

~*~*~ 

 

Willow heard voices, so close to her. The ground beneath her hand no longer felt like, well, ground. It was softer, more like sheets on a bed. And hadn't she been having the best dream ever? Why did people have to make so much noise? Couldn't they see she was sleeping? She felt someone lift her arm, their fingers on her wrist. They were taking her pulse. Did that mean she was sick? She didn't feel sick. After that dream she doubted she could feel anything but post-orgasmic. It had been like her very own French fantasy, complete with handsome French guy, well, vampire. She had even -spoken- French in the dream. She didn't know who Julianna was, nor did she care. He could have called her whatever he wanted as long as he was doing -that- to her. She concentrated, trying to get back to that happy place she had just been in. 

 

The effort was short-lived though. The soft hands touched a tender spot on her face and she cried out, her eyes fluttering open. A woman was leaning over her, concern on her face. She was pretty, though definitely wore too much makeup. "W- Who are you?" Willow asked. 

The woman gave her a reassuring smile. "My name is Cherry. I'm just looking over your injuries... I promise to be gentle." 

 

Willow nodded, wincing as the pain in her head doubled its efforts to turn her brain to mush. "Oh! Oh!" She struggled to sit up, fighting against the gentle, yet strong hands of her would-be nurse. The memories of the fight with the vampires had caught up to her at last. "Xander? Was there a man with me? Dark hair? Sort of goofy?" 

 

"Please stay still before you hurt yourself -more-!" Cherry insisted, pushing on the red head's shoulders until the distressed woman was back in a prone position. "Your friend is fine. He is downstairs with the rest of us..." 

 

"The rest of you?" Willow asked. It came upon her suddenly that she had never seen this woman before. Not in passing on the street or any other place. And Sunnydale wasn't that large of a town. The room looked familiar, though. 'This is Giles' room. His bedroom.' Her brain churned out sluggishly. She looked around, tears filling her eyes. There was his dresser and this? This was his bed. He was in England by now, happily frolicking about his motherland. And what had she and Xander done to commemorate him leaving? They had almost got themselves killed. "Wait... You're the people the Councils sent?" 

 

The woman nodded. "Yep. That's us. " 

 

"You don't look much like a Master Vampire to me." Willow stated blandly. 

 

Cherry laughed. "That's because I'm not." She opened her mouth, prepared to explain exactly what she was, and then snapped it shut again. She turned her head, looking at the doorway expectantly. 

Willow felt the presence in the doorway before she actually saw the person standing there. She knew without a doubt that Cherry wasn't the master. Hell, she wasn't even a vampire if this guy was any indication of it. Her eyes traveled from the tips of his shoes upwards, taking into account the very spiffy way he was dressed. Sort of classy, like Angel, though in a much more old-fashioned way. It was his face that got her attention like nothing else had, though. One half was scarred, as though it had been melted like it was nothing more than wax. The other half, though, was a different story. 

 

That side was that of the man in her dream.


	4. Part 3

Willow blinked, the images from her dream overlapping with those of reality until she could swear that they were one in the same. Her breath caught in her throat. He had been so lovely in her dream, so perfect and whole. In reality, he was only half of that. The other half looked as though the gods had gotten bored and decided his face was nothing more than silly putty to play with. 

 

"Asher." Cherry murmured, averting her gaze from the vampire's face. "She will be fine. Just a little soreness. Perhaps some tenderness to the head. Nothing more." 

 

"That is good." 

 

The red haired witch felt her heart skip a beat. He even spoke like the man in her dream, soft and undeniably French. 'You probably saw him before you got all unconscious-like.' Her inner voice whispered, providing an answer to why she may have dreamed of him. And she could definitely remember having heard his voice before she lost touch with reality. So there it was - the excuse she needed for having dreamed of him. 

 

"Your young friend is quite afraid you are dying or other nonsense, mademoiselle. Do you feel up to journeying down to reassure him?" 

 

Willow nodded, hesitantly. The woman, Cherry, was right, her head did feel tender. It hurt to just nod. But the goddess only knew what Xander would do if he didn't get to see her soon. She slid off the edge of the bed, placing her feet slowly on the floor. When she was sure she wasn't going to fall down immediately upon standing, the red head eased into a standing position. She swayed for a moment and then a cool hand was on her back. "Thank you - did she say your name was Asher?" 

 

"Oui." He replied simply, placing a hand under her elbow and guiding her gently out of the room and to the stairs. There was a delicate beauty to this one, a grace and innocence that called out to him like a fire on a cold night. And, something else. Something that called to his heart. He had felt it from the moment he had seen her laying there on the ground in the cemetery. The feeling had only strengthened now that she was awake and he could look in her sparkling green eyes. 

 

"Nice to meet you, then. And thanks for the whole life saving thing." She cleared the top of the stairs then and could see Xander sitting on Giles' old couch, his back turned to her. He either hadn't seen her yet or was too caught up in the woman sitting across from him to care. She was pretty, Willow had to give her that. Her skin was the color of warm caramel with her hair in many small braids that hung down to her back. She gave off a sense of otherworldiness that made Willow wonder what she was. Not human, the young witch was sure of that. Not undead either. Something else entirely. "Xan?" 

 

"WILLS!" The young man jerked out of his lust-induced trance and hopped up, nearly stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness to get to her. He bounded up the last remaining steps, pulling her into his arms. 

 

"Careful, Xan." She whispered, relishing the hug. Over his shoulder Willow could see that the little living room was filled with people. She hoped that they had made alternate arrangements for some of them since there was no way that Giles' little one bedroom townhouse was going to be able to accommodate six people. "Still a little weak in the knees." 

 

"She should sit down." Cherry murmured, coming up behind Asher. There wasn't enough room on the stairs for her to make her way past all of them and she waited patiently, anxious to see that her young patient be allowed to rest some more. Finally she frowned, adding some more intensity to her voice. "Please sit down?" 

 

"Yes, ma'm." Willow smirked, giving the woman a warm smile. She liked the tall blonde already, despite the fact that the woman was wearing entirely too much makeup and seemed to have dressed for a night on the street corner. Did she realize she was in Sunnydale - a small town and not some big city like Los Angeles where such things would be more normal? Willow hoped that the locals wouldn't be too hard on her, but knew that was probably a nil chance. 

 

She allowed Xander to lead her to one of the plush chairs Giles had kept in the house. Her eyes misted up. She could remember him sitting here on more than one occasion, getting the research done or lecturing Buffy for some fool stunt she had pulled. It was memories such as that one that made coming into this house now difficult. 

 

"Now that you are awake, cherie, I would like to ask how it was that you and your young friend came to be in the cemetery with those demon spawn." 

 

Willow chuckled. "We were hunting and got caught off guard." 

 

"Hunting?" 

 

The red head turned to see the man who had spoken and found yet another person who was going to have a hard time in Sunnydale. His hair was done in perfect cornrows, with small white beads at the bottoms, which hung to his mid-back from what she could tell. His sense of fashion was outstanding, so much better then the t-shirts the men in Sunnydale seemed to favor above everything else. She gave him what she hoped wasn't too much of a condescending smile and answered, "Yes. Hunting. Vampires, you know?" 

 

"You were hunting vampires?" Another of the men in the room spoke up. Willow noted that he was sitting next to another of the strangers and that the two of them looked like twins. "Do the people in this city usually do something so foolish?" 

 

"I'll have you know Wills and I have been hunting vampires since our sophomore year of high school. Its been almost..." 

 

"Five years." Willow finished, her own anger raised at the patronizing tone in the man's voice. "We've been hunting the demons that pop up around the Hellmouth for five years." 

 

"Then you must be the two friends of the Slayer that the Council mentioned." Asher said smoothly, his calming voice flowing over the room like a cool breeze. 

 

"Yeah." Xander muttered. "We were Buffy's friend's." 

 

Willow held out as long as she could, which turned out to be less than a minute total, before breaking out into tears. It was too much to hear Buffy's name spoken aloud. Too much, too soon. "I need some air." She whispered, stumbling from the couch and groping her way blindly to the door. 

 

"What -- ?" One of the blonde haired men asked, staring at the half-open door in confused shock. He wasn't used to women running sobbing from the room when he was near. Usually it was more of a falling head-over-heels type thing. -That- he was used to. Crying was something altogether different and unmanageable. 

 

"Buffy." Xander whispered the explanation, as though it were too personal to share, yet something that needed to be said all at the same time. It was a voice meant for those in the room with him and not the red head who was no doubt sitting outside, at the fountain, crying. "She's not dealing with it very well. Buffy was our best friend for five years. We shared everything and then - Then Buffy died. I'm coping. Willow isn't." 

 

"My condolences." Asher murmured. He could hear her just outside the door, sobbing as though her heart were broken. Such as was the case when someone loses someone that they loved dearly, like a mother or partner. He could taste her grief in his mind like a bitter wine. It was a pain he could understand. How often did he still dream of his lost love? "Can you tell us what happened to the Slayer? The Watcher's Council was not very forthcoming with answers. I would not want the same situation to happen again." 

 

Xander shook his head at the last part of Asher's comment. "This was a once in a lifetime thing. I really can't see another Hell goddess making her way to Earth. I'll tell you what happened but let me check on her first. See if she wants to be a part of this conversation or not." 

 

"She needs to come in and rest." Cherry said firmly. "She hurt her head." 

 

The young man chuckled mirthlessly. "I'll tell her that. But something you're gonna learn really quick about Willow - she's stubborn as hell when she wants to be."


	5. Part 4

Willow came back in, albeit reluctantly, at Xander's request that she be there while he told the story of Glory and Dawn to the newcomers. It wasn't her favorite story to hear, in fact it was one that brought dread to her heart, a chill to her soul. It was a story that ended with the death of one of the best friends her Goddess had ever seen fit to give her. Just being in Giles' house reminded her of everything she had lost; everything she would never again have back in her life. 

 

"Thank you for joining us again, Mademoiselle." 

 

"Willow." She told him, afraid to meet his face for fear that her dream images would come racing back. Those feelings had been all fine and good when she was sleeping off the blow to her head; but they did her little good now. And he was a vampire, very likely the Master that had been sent to guard the Hellmouth. There was nothing for her there. No hopes of a white picket fence with a two-bedroom house and a nice lawn. Not with a vampire. More like a crypt with a nice marble coffin if Spike was any evidence of what vampire living was like. 

 

"Willow." He smiled and there was a flash of fang, a subtle hint of what he was. 

 

Willow felt dizzy, the world around her swayed and tilted. A flash of her dream. Fangs piercing skin. Blood. But not as food. As a culmination of love so grand and so deep it would withstand all time. She could remember the feel of his skin against her chest, the sharp stinging pain of his bite mixed with the bliss inducing pleasure of his body. She stumbled, lurching forward. 

 

"Willow!" 

 

And then there were hands on her. One of the men from earlier. One of the twins. She didn't even know their names. Or the name of the woman Xander had been speaking with when she came down. Or the fierce looking man with the braided hair who seemed to hate her - or did he just hate being there, at the Hellmouth? She couldn't really blame him if that was the case. Even the people who lived there hated it. 

 

"Are you alright?" 

 

Willow turned her sidetracked attention back to the man who was holding her in his arms, gently as though she were a china doll and fit to break at any time. His eyes were the same shade of blue stereotypical mom's would use to dress their little boy babies in. A hue that was so much like the sky she wondered if she would see clouds moving through them if she just watched long enough. 

 

"Are you alright?" He repeated. 

 

"Just a little dizzy, I guess." The red head finally responded, easing her mind away from the beauty of the man's eyes and back to her present reality. The only reason she could think of for her reaction to Asher was the bump on her head. It was causing her to have these waking vision, dreamy things. It would all clear up after a good night's sleep. 

 

Cherry frowned. "Thus the reason I wanted you to stay sitting." She threw her hands up in frustration. 

 

"Gregory, if you would please assist her to the couch?" Asher asked smoothly, indicating Giles' old beat up sofa. These people all looked so sophisticated. What did they think of this house? The furniture? It as great stuff, and had been utterly Giles in nature. But now he was gone and they were here - and they certainly all weren't going to fit in this one little house! 

 

She felt strong arms lift her back into a standing position. Xander was hovering nervously just outside of her direct line of sight. She knew he must be worried. That's just what he did. Worry about her. It was what made him such a good friend. Part of the reason anyway. 

 

"Perhaps you should go home and rest? I can have Jamil walk you home." 

 

"Jamil?" Willow asked, her eyebrows raised in questioning confusion. "Forgive me - but I've hardly been introduced to everyone." 

 

"My apologies, Willow." 

 

The way he said her name made things in her body get hot. It was like a lover's touch on her bare skin; a promise of something more to come, a glimpse into something much larger. But there was no way he had meant for it to be like that, right? There wasn't the slimmest chance in Hell that he meant to have this effect on her. 

 

"These two men are Stephen and Gregory." He motioned, indicating the twins she had seen. "The lovely young woman over there is Vivian. And this," He turned, gesturing to the dark skinned man near the staircase. 

"Is Jamil. Cherry and myself I believe you have already met." 

 

Willow nodded to each of them in turn, wondering what exactly they were. Not vampire. But not human either. Not by a long shot. They all radiated with power, like it was below their skin waiting to come out at any time. Maybe shapeshifters of some sort? It seemed impolite to just come right out and ask. Thankfully, Cherry answered her question before she could even try to puzzle out a way to ask it. 

 

"Vivian, Gregory and myself are wereleopards. Stephen and Jamil are wolves." 

 

"Ah." It was all Willow could think to say. She turned to Xander. 

"You've were introduced while I was out?" 

 

Xander nodded, pushing away from the wall and coming to kneel next to her. "You were out for a while there, Wills. Was starting to get worried about you. But Cherry has nursing experience. She said you'd be fine." 

 

"Thank you." Willow murmured to the offbeat looking young woman. 

Cherry shrugged. "No problem." 

 

"It'll be dawn soon." Jamil murmured from the across the room. His voice was growly and he seemed angry. Willow didn't know why he would be so upset though. Was having to help a human out that bad of a thing where he was from? 

 

"True." Asher nodded. "Perhaps you may begin with your story now?" His eyes were on Xander alone, though his thoughts were concerned with the red haired witch that was sitting only a few feet away from him. What was it about her that called out to him like no other since the death of his beloved? 

 

Xander eased out of his kneeling position, moving to one side of the room so that he could look at all of those assembled. "Okay - here's the story of the events leading up to the death of the Slayer." 

 

~*~*~ 

 

As Xander's story came to a close Willow found that she had been crying uncontrollably, though she wasn't even aware of it before that moment. She had listened, trying to be detached as he had told the group about Glory and her minions. About the research they had done in hopes of getting rid of her. He had told them about Dawn and the monks; about the life they had led before their world had been reinvented. And he had told them about Buffy; about everything she had sacrificed during her short life and how she had died in the end to save not only them, but the entire world as well. 

 

'But the world doesn't even know about that.' Willow thought sadly.

 

'The world doesn't know how many times it came to ending. The people of the world don't know what we've done here. They don't know about Buffy and yet they should be celebrating her very existence. If it wasn't for her the entire world would have gone to Hell.' 

 

"Your friend was very brave." Asher said finally. He could feel the weight of the red head's pain. It echoed in his mind, his heart, making his stomach churn with the power of her grief. What he wouldn't give to take that pain away, to make everything better for her. But he couldn't do that. Couldn't bring back from the dead someone who was long gone. 

 

"She was the best." Xander whispered. There were tears in his eyes, too, and he didn't care who saw them. Let the women in the room think he was soft, let the men think he was a sissy. Buffy was dead and he had a right to mourn her. Certainly it deserved a few tears. 

 

"Sounds like it." Cherry agreed. The others were nodding, admitting that the sacrifice Buffy made was one of ultimate love. 

 

Willow yawned, her eyes closing. The little clock on the wall read nearly three in the morning. She had been up for almost twenty-four hours straight and her body was protesting more and more with each passing minute. 

 

"We have kept you up too late." 

 

The witch smiled at the apologetic tone of Asher's voice. "That's okay. A little lost sleep is the least we could do considering you saved us both." She looked around the room. "I don't mean to pry - but have you made sleeping arrangements yet? The six of you aren't going to all stay here, are you?" 

 

Asher snorted in a manner that Willow could already tell was uncharacteristic of him. "They Council told us that they had prepared lodging for us." He looked around the house. "Either they did not realize how many of us there would be or they are being less the courteous." 

 

Willow laughed softly. "So, I take it that you guys aren't really sure what you're going to do yet?" 

 

"'Fraid not." Stephen smirked. His eyes, the same light blue as his twins', looked about as tired as she felt. 

 

"Well - at least I can help with that." She smiled. "Some of you can come home with me. My parents' house has two empty bedrooms plus the couch. If some of you don't mind doubling up on the beds? Giles couch really isn't going to hold everyone and the bedroom is sort of small." 

"Willow. You are truly a gift from the gods." Asher murmured, unable to hide the relief in his voice. The sleeping arrangements had been in question from the moment they had seen the small home that the Council had provided to them. 

 

"Aw..." Willow blushed. "It's the least I can do since, you know, life saving and all that." She ducked her head, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. She knew he could probably hear it, knew that the shifters in the room probably could as well. Would they know why it was beating so hard; so fast? Could they guess that it was because of one little dream involving her and the newest Master vampire to make a home on the Hellmouth? For that matter - did Asher realize he was looking at her in a way that lover's often did? "Who will be coming home with me?" 

Asher glanced about the room. "Jamil will stay with me for the day. The others may go with you. We will start looking for more convenient accommodations tomorrow night." 

 

The witch smiled, nodding. "They are welcome to stay with me for however long it takes. Mom and dad never come home anyway." 

 

That one statement spoke volumes about the girl, but nothing Asher wanted to try to puzzle through at that moment. Not with dawn so close. 

 

"Thank you for the invitation. We will try not to be too imposing on your hospitality." He turned to the wereleopards and sole werewolf that would be accompanying Willow back to her house. "Be sure that they get home safe." 

 

"Yes sir." Vivian acceded. 

 

"You coming, too, Xan? I'll let you share my bed." 

 

"I'm sure An will just love that, old buddy of mine." Xander snickered. He stood, stretching, realizing for the first time exactly how tired he really was. "But yeah - I'll stay. I don't feel like walking home anyway. You guys got bags you need to grab?" 

 

"They're still in the van." It was Stephen that answered. "We can get them on the way out. Do you live far?" 

 

"Five minute walk." Willow shrugged. "No big thing. We ready to do this?" She waited for the others to nod before standing herself. The room still tilted if she moved too quick, best to take it slow. "Thank you again." She told Asher, opening the front door of the townhouse. She gave him a smile over her shoulder. "See you tomorrow." 

 

"I will be looking forward to it." Asher murmured, meaning the words for the first time in many, many years.


	6. Part 5

Dreams are a funny thing. They enthrall the senses into believing that they are happening. They cloud judgment and reason and give you, for just that one-second, a glimpse at things that you may never see again. They are tools of the gods, used to bring pleasure and release or even torture and sorrow. 

 

Asher hardly ever dreamed. 

 

And when he did, it was nightmares of what had been done to him. In those dreams he could feel the holy water eating away at his flesh as the priests did what they thought was right; as they tried to 'cure' him. He could feel the stinging heat, much like he could imagine acid would have felt like, as it warped his skin forever. No amount of plastic surgery can fix what holy water incurs. And he dreamed of being bound there, knowing Juliana was dead and wondering where Jean-Claude could be. Why hadn't he saved them? Why hadn't he at least saved Juliana? He could hear the priests praying over him even as they poured their disfiguring, damaging liquid upon him. Praying for his soul. 

But his soul, his Juliana, was lost to him by that point. She was dead. Burned as a witch. 

 

He sighed, rolling over on the not-so-comfortable bed that had been left by the Englishman that once lived in the house. His coffin was too large to fit in the room so he was stuck with the hardness of the bed and Jamil downstairs to guard over him as he slept. He knew the werewolf was irritated with having been assigned this job, after all - wasn't he Richard's bodyguard? Hopefully he'd actually protect him if it came down to that. He could only hope, anyway. 

 

The sun was coming up. He could feel it in his bones, in the very blood that was pumping through his dead body. Did God still watch over his kind? Did He listen to their prayers? He sent up one just in case. 

 

'Don't let me dream of Juliana.' 

 

~*~*~ 

 

But dream he did. 

 

He couldn't see. A blindfold, silk by the feel of it, was over his eyes. A smile curled his lips. This was a game he and Juliana had often played together. She would blindfold him and work her sinful womanly ways upon him. He would moan and take as much of it as he could stand. 

 

The game part of it was to see how long he could hold out without touching her; without taking the blindfold off and ravaging her senseless. If she could get him to give in before she brought him to climax, she won. If he held out long enough for her to grow tired and ravage - him-, he won. 

 

She almost always came out the winner. 

 

Maybe God had been listening, after all. This certainly wasn't the usual dream he had about his long lost beloved. Instead of feeling the pain of her lost, he could feel the touch of her body, the scent of her skin. 

 

Soft hands moved over his chest, as though smoothing out the skin. He could hear her murmur something, something soft and French about making love until the sun came up. It was music to his ears. Her fingernails raked across his stomach, drawing a hiss of pleasure from his parted lips. He could feel her settle herself onto his lower body, the folds of her nightgown brushing against his already exposed nether region. It was enough to make him groan aloud in desire. 

 

She moved her hands up to the soft buds of his nipples, pinching them roughly between her fingers even as her mouth came down to capture his moaning reaction. He pushed up against her, pushing his hardness into the folds of her gown as though, by sheer luck alone, he'd find that capturing warmth he was looking for. It was heaven to be in her bed, in her arms, even if it was only a dream. He'd wake in the evening and she'd be gone, but for now he had her to himself once again. In his dream he was still whole, still desirable. 

 

And she was proving her desire for him right now. 

 

Her soft lips came down around his hard flesh, drawing the silky skin into her mouth time and again. To grab her now would be to loose the game. He balled his hands into fists, his nails biting into the flesh of his palms. The sharp tang of blood filled the air and he was lost. 

He tore the blindfold from his eyes, sitting up at the same time. 

 

"Juli -" The name died on his lips. This wasn't Juliana, his human servant and lover. This woman had red hair and sparkling green eyes. She was someone he knew, yes. But she was not the woman he had expected to see when he took off the blindfold. In fact, he had never expected to see anyone other than his beloved in a dream like this with him. Except for maybe Jean-Claude, that is. 

 

He licked his lips, staring into the woman's eyes right before the dream faded out to the pure blackness of dreamless sleep. 

 

"Willow?"


	7. Part 6

Willow had planned on going to bed as soon as she got home, but with four houseguests, plus Xander, she soon found that wasn't going to be an option. For the most part they were just as tired as she was, though none of them seemed to be ready to sleep. The red head attributed that to the fact that even she herself had passed the point where she was so tired she just couldn't get to sleep. So instead they all sat up talking, with each of the shifters taking a turn asking about Sunnydale, about the things they had done in high school and beyond, and any other topic that came up. 

 

Cherry fussed over her like a mother, giving her sidelong glances every time she moved as though she were afraid Willow would break if she so much as twitched the wrong way.. It didn't take a genius for Willow to realize that she had to have medical training of some sort. Probably a nurse. She had the hands of a nurse, tentative yet firm - gentle yet demanding. By the look of the woman's clothes, however, Willow could only guess that she was no longer actively pursuing a career in the medical field. No doubt a victim to the ugly thing called prejudice. Discriminating against someone because of a disease, such as lycanthropy, was illegal. 

 

But 'unexpected cutbacks' were not. 

 

Had Cherry fallen victim to one such type cutback? Willow didn't have to ask her to know that was the case. Wereanimals couldn't be 'trusted' around blood. It was a load of bull and Willow knew it. A lot of people knew it. Unfortunately, that didn't stop prejudice from happening or 'cutbacks' from occurring. The world was an ugly, ugly place. 

 

Her green eyes traveled slowly around the cozy living room of her parents' house, filled with people she had only just met and Xander. Her bestest friend in the entire world was currently making goo goo eyes at Vivian. Anya wouldn't be happy if she found out. 

 

'Who cares?' Willow thought sourly. 'She's too good to help us patrol. She gets all pissy if Xander goes out to do the duty we've been left to. At least Vivian seems like a nice woman.' 

 

And she did. 

 

All of them seemed nice, for that matter. 

 

Too nice to be hanging out with a Master Vampire. Not that Willow was prejudiced against vampires. No - she still considered Spike to be her friend, and Angel, too. They were different, though. Different bloodline, one that had been mired in a curse so powerful that those of that line would forever look like demons at the height of their passions and hungers. The other vampires, the ones that remained humanly ethereal at all points of time - they sort of scared her. 

 

Like Asher. He had been nice enough. But there was just something about him that screamed 'Master Vampire'. Maybe it was the way he held himself. Maybe it was the soft glow behind his eyes. Or maybe it was just the dead white skin and the utter lack of humanity that radiated from him like a shield. Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He was nice, but not someone she could see herself trusting with her life. 

 

Even though that was exactly the position she was in now. He was going to be the overseer for Sunnydale until such time as someone could work their magic and get Faith out of jail. That would take some time. A lot of time. The crimes Faith had committed weren't the type that left someone getting parole so soon afterwards. No matter how many strings were pulled, Faith wouldn't be getting out anytime soon. 

 

So she had to deal with having a Master Vampire in the city she called home. A vampire that brought out feelings in her that she would have sworn once that no vampire could ever hope to do. A disturbingly handsome, very much scarred Master Vampire. Okay. Devastatingly handsome might be more of an accurate statement. His hair had looked so soft. She had wanted to run her fingers through it to find out if it was as silky as she remembered from the dream she had been having. And had he ever been whole, as she had seen in her dream? Or had he been scarred and flawed for his entire existence? How had that happened? 

Luckily for her, Xander took that moment to open his big mouth and ask the same question she had been thinking so privately. 

 

"So, uh, how did that Asher guy get all scarred up?" 

 

The assembled group of wereanimals looked from one to another, as though silently asking who should tell the story, or if it should be told at all. Finally Cherry spoke up. 

 

"Holy water." She murmured. "Priests many years ago thought that the best way to 'cure' him of his vampirism would be to burn it out of him one inch of skin at a time." She smiled, but it was bitter. "Now he is like you see him - deformed." 

 

"Don't ask him about it." Vivian warned. "It is a touchy subject. I'm sure you can understand." 

 

Willow nodded. "I can see how that would be." She opened her mouth, intending to ask another question about them in general, and found herself yawning instead. Sleep had finally caught up to her. 

 

"Go to sleep, please." 

 

The red haired witch gave Cherry a smile. "Yes, mom." 

 

"Sorry." The wereleopard blushed. "I don't mean to be pushy. Just habit, I guess." 

 

"Don't be sorry." Willow felt sorry for the woman - immensely sorry. There was something tragic in this woman's past. She had once been a good nurse, Willow was sure. A very kind and caring nurse. Damn humans and their insane prejudices. "It's nice to have someone mothering me, watching out for me." 

 

That brought a smile to Cherry's face, a genuine one that made her look so much younger than Willow would have immediately given her credit for being. "Will you show us to our rooms, first?" 

 

"I will." Xander volunteered. "Though - there's only three beds. Someone will need to sleep on the couch." 

 

"We'll share." Vivian offered, pointing at herself and Cherry. 

 

That was too much for Xander. His eyes widened at the thought of the two entirely beautiful and exotic women in bed together. "There is a god, and he is great. Don't suppose you'll let me watch?" He joked lamely. 

 

The women laughed. "Sorry. Pard only. Maybe some other time." The dark skinned woman winked, linking her arm through Cherry's. 

 

"Damn." 

 

"Don't let them get to you." Gregory smirked, coming up beside Xander. "Sleeping together means nothing to us. It's like sleeping in bed with your sister or brother." 

 

"Besides, Xan." Willow spoke up, a smile tugging at her lips. "Remember Anya? Your girlfriend? I somehow doubt she would like you even -thinking- about watching another woman in bed." 

 

He paled at the reminder. "That's just mean, Wills. Way to spoil a man's fantasies. She'd have me skinned alive." 

 

"At the least." The red head grinned. She held a hand out to her friend, letting him pull her to her feet. 

 

"But yet the two of you will be sharing a bed today?" 

 

"Like you said," Willow shrugged. "It's like sleeping with a sibling. Xan and I have known each other almost our entire lives. We tried the whole kissing, touching, loving thing - and it just ended badly." 

 

"Really badly." Xander grimaced at the memory. 

 

The look on his face was enough to make the group break into a kind of hesitant laughter that grew until it was friendly and welcoming. It was at that moment that Willow realized that she liked these people. If this was any omen of things to come things were looking good. 

 

Good indeed.


	8. Part 7

"Well don't you just look as pleased as punch." Willow smirked as she walked past Jamil and into the house her surrogate father had once lived in. Her look, and comment, was directed solely at the blonde haired vampire lounging on the staircase. The very sight of him made her heart skip a beat, just as it had in her dream. She could remember the feel of his body against hers; could almost feel him inside of her. 

 

It was shameful to dream about a man she had just met like that, much worse to not be able to get it out of her mind. He was smiling ever so slightly, and that made it all the worse because she could remember the sight of him smiling in her dream, his face lit up with happiness; not this small, almost sad, smile that he was wearing now. 

 

"That is because I have found me and mine a place to stay, cherie. We need not intrude upon your generosity for another night." He gave her a small half-smile, thankful that his hair had fallen to hide the scars on his face. He didn't want her to look at him like others did, with disgust or sympathy. For some reason he wanted her to look at him like a woman might look at a man. Like she had looked at him in his dream. The same way Juliana had once looked at him. With tenderness. 

 

With passion. 

 

For the first time in years he found himself intrigued by a woman other than the one that was unattainable - Anita. In his dreams she had looked on him with the kind of tender devotion that he knew he would never again see in the waking world outside of Jean-Claude and his love. This little red head with hair the color of warm fire, and eyes so green they could be the most flawless of emeralds, had already managed to work her way into his very being. 

 

And she wasn't even trying; just being around her was an attraction, a draw that he couldn't quite explain. 

 

"A place to stay? Cool." She smiled. "Where? If you don't mind me asking." 

 

Xander and the others had entered by that point and were all looking towards Jean-Claude with interest. They had all left the house not too soon after sunset, giving Asher a chance to fully wake and get settled before arriving on his doorstep. Friendships had been formed already. In Xander's case he had already developed quite a crush on the lovely Vivian - and she seemed to be returning it. 

 

'That'll end quick enough.' Willow sighed. 'Anya will come between them. She is, after all, still his girlfriend.' But there was that hope that maybe Xander had seen that there was something better out there. Some-one- better. 

 

"A lovely mansion. I couldn't imagine why it was unoccupied. It has that certain charm. Stone walls. Marble floors." 

 

The corner of Willow's mouth lifted, despite her best attempts to suppress the smile that was lurking. The mansion he described sounded very much like a place she knew all too well. In fact - he could only be describing one mansion. Sunnydale wasn't exactly the lap of luxury. 

 

"This mansion wouldn't happen to be on Crawford Street, would it?" 

 

The vampire blinked at the human witch, his eyes widening with surprise. "Why, yes. You know of it?" 

 

Xander was laughing, now, his arm thrown over his eyes, head back on the couch. "Oh God. What is it about you dead guys and that mansion?" 

 

Asher looked from the laughing man on his couch to the witch who was trying desperately not to break out into giggles of her own. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Please explain?" 

 

Willow took pity on him, though laughter still tinged her words. "That mansion used to belong to a good friend of ours, also a vampire." 

 

"Yep." Xander agreed, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "And before Angel it was home to Angelus, Spike and Dru." 

 

He recognized these names only from the very limited briefing he had received from the Watcher's Council regarding the history of the town. 

They were vampires of the worst kind; barbaric creatures from a bloodline that should have died out a long time past. He didn't see why they found it so amusing, however, but chose to let it go. 

 

"I have to be getting home before Anya finds a way to bring down some vengeance on me." Xander sighed, pushing himself to a standing position. "Want me to walk you home, Wills?" 

 

"We can see her home." Asher interjected quickly, much to the surprise of the gathered weres in the living room. "If she wishes to stay, that is." 

 

The witch looked at the Master Vampire for a long moment before nodding, ever so slightly, a small smile on her face. "That would be nice. I really don't have anything to do tonight anyway." 

 

"It's settled then. Jamil please see Xander to his home and then return. The real estate agent is meeting us at the house in an hour." 

 

Willow didn't miss the look of irritation on the dark-skinned werewolf's face. Or the way he glared at Asher. She got the feeling that he was here against his will and not entirely happy about it. Or maybe he just didn't like walking people home like a door-to-door taxi service. Whatever the case was, she wasn't about to ask. It was no doubt personal and something she had no real business knowing. 

 

"The real estate agent agreed to meet you after dark?" Willow asked in surprise, waving goodbye to Xander. She gave Asher another small smile, drawn to the beauty of the side of him that she could see at the moment. It reminded her of the dream she had experienced the night before. "Brave woman considering the town." 

 

"For the right amount of money one can get just about anything, cherie. The delivery men will be there with the furniture shortly after I am done with the real estate agent." 

 

Willow was impressed. She wondered if he knew how much he was giving away to her without realizing it. Probably not. He seemed like a very private person. Yet, she already knew that he was in possession of a vast supply of money - enough to make normally wary citizens of the city meet him after dark. There was still a lot about him that was a mystery, though. 

 

And, despite her own misgivings about vampires in general, she found herself wanting to get to know him better; to explore those little mysteries. 

 

'And other things.' She twitted herself. 'You want to explore his body, just admit it. Been a long time since anyone brought out these feelings in you.' 

 

It was the truth. She felt her body heat up at the very idea of getting to know him better in a purely physical sense. This couldn't be good for her, not sitting in a room full of shifters who could probably smell the desire rolling off of her. She sighed, forcing herself to think awful, much colder, and decidedly less sexual thoughts. 

 

Staying around him would make for a long night, indeed. 

 

But there wasn't anywhere she'd rather be.


	9. Part 8

"Your young friend has gotten very close with one of the wereleopards." 

Willow grinned at Asher. 

 

"I know. And don't you doubt for one second that it could be hazardous to his health. If his girlfriend finds out, well, let's just say it won't be pretty. Anya's not good for him, though. And Vivian seems to be nice." 

 

The vampire nodded, settling into a chair across from the red head. She had come over with Xander to visit and had promptly found herself abandoned as Vivian led Xander off for some private time. He had no idea what this private time may be entailing, and indeed, did not want to know. This had happened almost every night since they had moved into the mansion nearly one week ago. And yet the young witch endured the abandonment, sitting quietly by herself or chatting with one of the other members of his entourage until such time as her friend saw fit to go home. 

 

"The two of you are close?" 

 

Willow chuckled softly. 

 

"He's like a brother to me. That's the reason I only want what's best for him. And why I want to see him happy. Anya doesn't make him happy anymore. I don't think she ever did." She frowned, realizing the truth of her own words. Xander had never been with Anya because he was truly happy to be with her. He had been with her so that he wasn't the third wheel anymore. He had her and they had their significant others. 

 

And, for a time, that had been enough to keep everyone at least satisfied. 

 

The problem now was that Xander was realizing he wasn't satisfied anymore. He was pushing the limits and getting to know Vivian on what Willow could only assume was a much more personal level than he was letting on. And she was so sweet, it was hard not to wish him the best. But Anya would be furious when she found out. Not *if* but *when*. Because eventually he was going to have to come clean with her. 

 

"Do you think Vivian will make him happy?" 

 

Asher's question pulled Willow out of her thoughts and back into reality. She nodded hesitantly. 

 

"I think she's making him happy now, just by getting to know him. And I know that he has never rambled on and on about a woman the way he does each night about Vivian after we go home. He hardly talks about Anya anymore except to say that she wants him to call when he gets home. Or something to that effect. " 

 

Which was true. In a way it seemed like Anya had already moved past Xander. She was hardly ever home herself and didn't mind him going out each and every night. But that didn't change the fact that she'd be irate if she found out what Xander was doing behind her back. 

 

"And you?" Asher asked softly. "Are you happy?" 

 

Her green eyes roamed over what she could see of his face and she smiled softly. He was so genuinely concerned for her sometimes. Like he was in her dreams - the dreams that happened every night now. 

 

"I am...content?" She asked, her brow furrowing in thought. "No. That's not the right word either. I'm okay with my life at the moment. I haven't found that kind of happiness that Xander has, though. I thought I had once, with Oz. But when he cheated on me, then killed her in front of me and tried to kill me himself, it sort of ended things." 

 

Asher's eyes widened. "He -what-?" 

 

Willow giggled. "He was a werewolf, Asher. He cheated on me with another werewolf. She came to get me on the night of a full moon and they fought, he killed her and then shifted and tried to do what came naturally for him - eat me." 

 

That apparently made a little more sense to the Master Vampire. He relaxed visibly, no longer looking as though he were going to leap up at any moment and run out to find and slaughter Oz . 

 

"My turn to ask a question." She smiled at him. "Are you happy?" 

 

It was an honest question. The same one he had asked of her only moments before, to be exact. He found himself answering before he even knew what he was doing. 

 

"I was happy once." He admitted slowly. "A long, long time ago. My first human servant and I were quite the pair. She was the essence of perfection. Her, myself, and another traveled together. We were companions in every way. But --- " 

 

He paused, thinking back on the moments that had torn Juliana from his life, scarred him permanently, and created a rift between himself and Jean-Claude that even to this day was still being repaired. 

 

"She was killed by the church. I was tortured by them; deformed for the rest of my existence." 

 

Willow nodded thoughtfully. She had heard this story before from those traveling with Asher. But to hear it from his lips, to see the raw emotion in his face; it touched something inside of her. She wanted to reach out to him, comfort him. That was out of the question, though. He didn't seem the type to take casual touching or comforting lightly. And she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Not when he was opening up to her for the first time. 

 

"I'm sorry to hear that." She said at last, when the silence had stretched out between them for minutes. 

 

"T'was a long time ago, cherie." He whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "But it still hurts." 

 

She smiled, placing a hesitant hand on his arm in what she hoped was a completely innocent, yet comforting, gesture. She fought her body's natural urge to go sit next to him, take him in her arms, and hold him while he dealt with the demons her question had brought up. 

 

'I shouldn't feel that way.' She reminded herself. 'I shouldn't want to cuddle someone I just met. So why do I want it with all me heart?' 

 

"So," She said at last, giving him an encouraging smile. "You know about me. Tell me about yourself?" 

 

Asher looked at her in surprise. She wanted to get to know him? How rare was that? A woman that wanted to get to know him despite his scars. 

 

And so he told her. About his life prior to meeting his Master, Belle Morte. About his life after the change. And a whole variety of other things he hadn't told to another soul in so long. By the end of the two hours they had together, she knew almost as much about him as Jean-Claude did. 

 

Why had he told her all of that? 

 

The second he stopped speaking long enough to realize what he had done; the vampire became very upset with himself. There was something about her that just made him want to tell her all of his secrets, his desires. And that was dangerous. He didn't want anyone else getting that close to him, not even this little red haired angel that had become such a part of his life in the past week and a half. She would only see him as a friend in the end. And friends didn't need to know those little personal details about him. He stood up suddenly, flashing her a tight smile. 

 

"I must be going now, cherie. I have work to attend to." 

 

Willow nodded, watching him go with a confused look on her face. She had thought that their talk had been going well. Certainly she had learned much more about him than she had ever thought he would share. But maybe that was the crux of the problem. It was entirely possible that he had regretted sharing with her. She wouldn't blame him one bit if that were the case. The things he had shared, especially the parts about his life prior to being turned, were so personal. She got the feeling that she may be one of the few people alive to know so much about him. 

 

And that made her happy in at least a small way. 

 

She sighed, settling back onto the couch. It was late. Hopefully Xander would be ready to leave soon so that she could go home, get in bed. 

 

And dream.


	10. Part 9

"You are beautiful." 

 

The words were in French, but Willow understood. She always understood it in her dreams. She blushed under the gaze of the blonde haired vampire in front of her. His blue eyes raked over her form, inspiring the type of wicked thoughts that she could only assume were born of true passion. She had never thought that way about Oz; nothing even remotely close to this. 

 

"Beautiful?" She murmured, answering him in the same French dialect he had spoken to her in. "I think not. How can I be thought to be beautiful when paired with such an awe inspiring creature as yourself, my love? No one looks twice at me. I am plain compared to you." 

 

He snorted softly, disbelievingly, and reached up to brush a lock of red hair from her shoulder. It left her pale skin open to the air, and to his touch; which he immediately took advantage of, caressing the skin with his fingertips. 

 

"You are beautiful." He whispered, bending low to kiss her neck. "Do not argue with me on that, my darling." 

 

She nodded, swallowing down her own rebuttal to his remark. She felt his lips graze the skin of her neck and she moaned softly; the soft kiss drawing out the more complex feelings of love and desire that she felt for Asher in this, her dream world. 

 

The dreams had been continuing, without stop, since the night he had first arrived in town. Never before had she felt this way for a vampire. Not even Angel who was, as she was told, devastatingly handsome. No, he hadn't made her want to jump in bed. She had never had a single illicit dream or thought about another man since Oz had left. And now she was dreaming of Asher every night, doing things with him in her dreams that left her tired and panting when she woke. 

 

Being around him was proving harder and harder, despite the conversations they had ended up having recently. It had seemed as though he had recovered quite quickly from telling her about his life; the next night they had found themselves again talking for hours as Xander spent time with Vivian. She enjoyed those talks and didn't push him to share more than he felt like. What he said went no further than her ears. She didn't share it with Xander or with any of the entourage of weres that were constantly roaming through the mansion. 

 

But these damned dreams were making it so difficult. She had had to force herself on more than one occasion to back off when her body would have insisted she throw herself at him and do some of those little things she had only seen in her dream; little tricks that she instinctively knew he would enjoy, as though the memories were deeply imbedded in her own psyche. 

 

"So excited already," He murmured. "Is it because of me or is it because our third will be home tonight." His lips trailed over the skin of her neck, drawing out another soft moan. "He had been gone from us too long." 

 

"Much too long." She agreed, though not knowing why. This was one of those parts of the dream that was on autopilot. She was aware of what was going on, but had no control over it. She wondered what he meant by their 'third' being home soon; but didn't want to question lest it spoil the moment they were sharing. "But this excitement is for you alone, my precious Asher. It is for you that I yearn. You that I crave each night and day. I live for you and only you." 

 

It was in that moment that she realized what she was saying in the dream was true. Something cried out that, in this dream, she was his human servant. Just like the 'Juliana' that he often called her; here she was his human plaything. Though it was so much more than that. She was his lover, his companion, his friend. She was, essentially, his everything. 

 

"You crave me?" He asked quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching as he suppressed a smile. "How do you crave me?" 

 

"Let me show you..." 

 

~*~*~ 

 

Asher looked like the dead when he slept. Which was an apt description considering he was, technically, dead. And this day was no different. Willow and Xander had left the mansion only shortly before sunrise to seek the comfort of their own beds, leaving him and his to rest as well. 

 

He had felt dawn creeping up on him as he had lowered the lid to his coffin, sinking into the silk-lined plushness. No sooner had the dark hands of sleep reached up to snatch him from the grasp of the waking world than had he succumbed to dreams. 

 

They were the usual dreams, those of himself and Willow, though doing things that he had done at one time with Juliana. Despite that reminder of his lost love, he could not find it within himself to feel guilty over his growing feelings for the red haired witch. They had shared many hours talking, getting to know one another. He felt as though he knew her better than just about anyone else, save maybe Xander. There were nights when he talked, nights when she talked, and nights when they spent the entire night chatting idly, back and forth. On the nights she talked they sometimes spoke of the slain Slayer, and that would bring Willow to tears. He didn't like to see her cry and wished he could take away the sadness. 

 

But sadness was one of the things that made up life. Certainly he had experienced enough of it to last centuries. He couldn't stop her from mourning a loss that apparently cut so deep. So he talked with her, trying to ease her mind away from the pain that she felt and replace it with something else. Wouldn't it be better to remember Buffy as she had lived instead of constantly thinking on her cold and dead, buried beneath the earth? 

 

In his dreams he knew Willow just as intimately as he had ever known Juliana, and indeed more so in some ways. The red head did not share many of the old-fashioned constraints his own lover had been afflicted with. She loved him, in his dreams, with all of the warmth and passion that her heart and soul had to offer. 

 

Like now. 

 

The dream they were sharing was steamy, erotic; definitely nothing for minors to take a glimpse at. Her body was wrapped around him, sheathing him; her warmth working its way into his cold skin. They were moving frantically, with a pace and passion that he had never really been able to bring out in Juliana. His dark haired lover had been gentle, playful; Willow was just as playful, but much more of a wildcat. 

 

At least, in his dreams. 

 

He had no idea if she were truly that way in the waking world. 

 

"My love..." 

 

"Asher...." She moaned, whispering his name into his ear. 

 

And then they climaxed and it felt so real, so right, that for a moment he could totally lose himself in the dream. It was his reality for that split second. 

 

"I love you, my darling..." He murmured, drawing her panting body down upon his own. 

 

"And I you." 

 

He closed his eyes in the dream, reveling in the beauty of the afterglow of their lovemaking. And then he heard something from her, something that made his mind reel under the implications it brought forth. It was enough to make him question the dreams and what they meant, on so much more of a finer level than what he had been doing in the first place. It was the sweetest of whispers, the barest breath of noise; and it held in it a wealth of information and brought out a bevy of questions. 

 

"If only reality were as sweet as my dreams."


	11. Part 10

If it were possible for Asher to have woken in a cold sweat when evening finally came, he most certainly would have. There had been no other dreams other than the one he had had of Willow; not that he was conscious of, anyway. And, though the rest of his sleep was undisturbed and peaceful, his mind was forever alert because of that one comment his dream lover had made. The thing that had turned his so-called dream into some sort of twisted reality that was manifesting itself in his dreams. 

 

Except, it had always been a reality, hadn't it? 

 

He pushed open the lid of his coffin, noting with a vague frown that there was still a slight glow coming from behind the thick drapes over the only window in his room. So it was sunset, then, not quite dusk. All the better, he couldn't have slept another moment anyway. Even in the dreamless state he had been left in after the revelation he hadn't been able to get the knowledge that the Willow of his dreams was the same Willow he spent hours talking to each week. The dream Willow that he treated as though were Juliana was the same as the red haired human that had thoroughly bewitched him in the waking world as well. 

 

What other excuse was there for her comment at the end? Wishing that her reality was as nice as her dreams? Why would a dream lover say something so absurd? 

 

The house was quiet, nearly empty he noted, stretching his senses out. Jamil would still be there, though. He was the one that was always left to do the guarding, partially because he was the only one truly up to the job. 

 

The blonde haired vampire made his way silently through the house, towards the living room and the phone it contained. Jean-Claude would already be awake and he could sorely use his advice. 

 

The phone rang only twice at the Circus before Jean-Claude answered. 

"Mon ami? What is troubling you so?" He questioned after hearing only Asher's greeting. 

 

"Old friend, something strange is happening." 

 

In halting words he told Jean-Claude of everything that had transpired since he had set foot in this god-forsaken little town. The mouth of Hell, truly that's what it had to be since it was giving him such Hell in his dreaming state. He told his friend and former lover of the connection he felt towards Willow, of the dreams he was having of their past, with Willow tossed in the mix instead of the devastating Juliana. 

And he told Jean-Claude of the words the red head had spoke in the dream only that day. 

 

Jean-Claude listened quietly. He could practically feel the distress radiating from his friend, despite the fact that they were many hundreds of miles away. 

 

"This is very - " 

 

"What?" Asher prompted when Jean-Claude did not finish. 

 

"I truly do not know what to say." There was a sigh. "I am at a loss for words. I have never before heard of such a thing. You are sure that she is not the cause of it? She is a witch, non?" 

 

"Oui. I've not had any reason to doubt her, though. She is hopelessly devoted to this place, to her friends. This would gain her nothing." 

 

There was a silence that seemed to extend for minutes and then, 

 

"You do not think that she could be Juliana reincarnated, do you, mon ami?" 

 

Asher closed his eyes. True, that thought had plagued him. 

 

Reincarnation was not unheard of in the circles they walked in. It was rare, yes. But not impossible. 

 

"Why, though? Why now? Why her? Why here?" 

 

A soft chuckle came through the line. "I do not know. But what other explanation could there be? She is your lost love. Have you not dreamed of her in the place of Juliana? Playing those games the two of you were so fond of playing? How would your innocent Willow know of those things? You're history is not common knowledge, even to those that study our kind." 

 

And there it was, the utter truth. Asher already had reason to believe that the Willow in his dreams was the actual realization of the Willow he knew in reality. Yet, he dreamed of her as he would Juliana. They played the games of seduction and desire that he and his former Human Servant had played so many times before, over so many years. There was no way she could know about those. Or know just how to touch him, how to bring out the pleasure in him as no other woman, or man, had ever been able to do since. 

 

"Do not question the little gifts that are thrown at us in life, Asher." Jean-Claude whispered. "If this is truly Juliana brought back to you, then love her as she was always meant to be loved but keep in mind that she is still, above all else, just Willow." 

 

"And if its not Juliana reincarnated? What then, old friend?" 

 

"That is easy, mon ami. Still love her as she deserves to be loved. That she can bring out these kind of feelings in you where others could not is nothing short of a miracle. Cherish that which the heavens have given you." He paused. "I must be going now. The show is about to begin. Au revoir." 

 

Asher heard the click of the phone hanging up as if through a dream, Jean-Claude's words echoing hauntingly in his ears. Love her no matter what. Take what's been given and make the most of it. Don't turn away from a true miracle in life. 

 

He only wondered if it were possible for him to take advantage of what was so willingly in front of him after so long of being alone.


	12. Part 11

Note: Words notated in {} are in French - use your imagination grin. 

 

 

The night passed slowly for Asher, and he began to wonder if Xander and Willow would be coming over at all. It was possible, he reasoned, that they had chosen to spend one night out of the past weeks doing things that normal young people their age did. 

 

Then, at quarter past ten, they strolled in the door, Vivian in tow. Xander was laughing. His shirt was torn and Asher could smell blood coming from him. 

 

"You were in a fight?" He questioned, standing and making his way towards the young man. He couldn't bear to look towards the red head, scared of what he may give away in his eyes before he was ready to speak with her on matters he was sure she hadn't even become aware of yet. 

 

"Uh - sorta." Xander sighed, wincing. 

 

Asher moved aside to allow them into the living room. 

 

"What happened?" 

 

"Anya." Willow stated simply. 

 

"Your girlfriend did this to you?" Asher asked, raising an eyebrow. 

 

"Ex-girlfriend." Xander corrected, smiling at Vivian. 

 

"Mon dieu." Asher sighed. Sometimes getting a straight answer was difficult from these people. "Alright. Your *ex*- girlfriend did this to you?" 

 

Willow nodded. 

 

"Yup. Right at the point she was becoming his ex-girlfriend." The red head looked towards Xander. "You wanna tell the story or should I?" 

 

"Go for it, bestest bud." The young man grinned goofily. "My mouth could use the rest. I think she came just this short of breaking my jaw." 

 

Willow hid a smile as Vivian moved closer to Xander, the dark-skinned woman's hands moving comfortingly on her friend's arms. They were undeniably cute together. 

 

"Anya found out that Xander has been spending, um, too much time with Vivian. In all fairness to her, its not nice to be cheated on and Xander shouldn't have done it." 

 

"Ah." Asher nodded. This made sense. The woman had been jilted and had taken it out on her former lover. "So she was upset about this, I take it?" 

 

"Not exactly." Willow laughed. "She was happy about it; said that she had been unhappy for a while, too and wanted to get on with her life. But that never stopped Anya from doing what she thought a 'normal human girl' would do in a situation like this. So, she grabbed him by his shirt, tore it in the process, and then slugged him with her free hand." 

 

"It was almost funny." Vivian admitted. 

 

"See what I get for choosing you over her?" Xander groaned. "Now you're picking on me, too. Must be my curse." 

 

"Poor baby." The wereleopard murmured. "Come with me so I can get you cleaned up?" 

 

Willow watched her friends go, bemused by the open cuteness they were showing each other. She couldn't remember ever seeing Xander so, well, besotted, by someone. As they disappeared from sight she was reminded that she was alone with Asher by the clearing of his throat. 

 

And then her dream from the night before came rushing back to her. 

It had been different from the others, though she wasn't quite sure how. It had seemed more revealing, more intrusive into a life she was sure wasn't hers. Something she was living out, like scenes from the past. But who's past? Certainly not hers and there was no way it could be Asher's, either. 

 

Asher looked at the red haired witch sitting on his living room couch and took a deep breath. She was beautiful and had bewitched his heart and soul without so much as lifting a finger. The connection he felt to her was unlike any other he had felt in his life save one - the bond he had shared with Juliana. And this remarkable young woman appeared to be her very reincarnation. But how to speak of this without frightening her? 

 

{My God,} He whispered, half to himself. {What am I going to do?} 

 

{What is wrong?} Willow murmured. {Why do you seem so troubled?} 

 

{It's just that -- } He paused, looking at her oddly. {I did not know you spoke French?} 

 

{I don't -- } She stopped, her hand flying to her mouth. Her heart doubled its pace as fear took over her body. "I don't speak French. Oh Goddess. What's going on with me?" 

 

Asher sat down heavily next to Willow, taking her hand in his own. He could hear her heart racing and heard it speed up even more at his touch. 

 

"Do you dream?" He asked quietly, his eyes searching her face. 

 

"Do I - Yes, I dream." Her heart skipped a beat at the question, but she answered it anyway. 

 

"So do I, ma cherie. And I have been having these dreams of late. They are most pleasurable... and most confusing." 

 

"Dreams?" She croaked. 

 

"Yes. I think you know what I mean." 

 

"I - " She shook her head. Fear was warring with confusion. Yes, she knew what he meant. He was alluding to the same dreams she had been having ever since his arrival. The ones where they were doing all sorts of naughty things. Things that she had no right to dream about doing with a man, no - vampire, that she hardly knew. 

 

But she -did- know him. 

 

She knew him with every breath she took. Her entire body screamed out to him every time they were together, aching for his touch, his embrace. It was agony sometimes to simply be near him because of the dreams where they were so close. Her body reacted to him like he was a long lost lover, someone she had known for her entire life; despite the fact that she had only known him for a few short weeks. 

 

Wait - he had had the dreams she had? The ones where they - Oh Goddess. 

A scarlet blush spread over her body, from her toes to the top of her head, covering her pale skin in an undeniable pink hue. 

 

"Goddess, why me?" She whispered, dropping her head into her hands. 

"Why now?" 

 

Asher moved closer to her, taking her into his arms the second he was able. He held her now-trembling frame to his chest, smoothing down her hair and whispering soft, soothing nonsense in English and French. When she began to calm down enough that he thought she was listening, he started to speak in earnest. 

 

"We have been sharing those dreams, my little one. They are the dreams of things that happened many, many years ago. And in them you seem to know those things that only my Juliana would have been privy to." 

 

"What does that mean? Why me?" She mumbled, sniffling but not pulling away. It felt good to be held by his strong arms. 

 

"I believe that you are Juliana's reincarnation." He sighed. "You are my second chance." 

 

The thought didn't strike her as oddly as one would expect. It certainly did explain a lot of things. The dreams, the connection she felt to Asher, the fact that she had spoken and understood fluent French only a few short minutes before. 

 

And, in a way, it was comforting. 

 

She didn't need to question why she felt this way. She could just go with it and trust that it was the natural order of things. There was no reason for Asher to lie; and how could he have fabricated everything that had happened anyway? There just wasn't a way. 

 

"So - I'm her, except I'm still me." She smiled, raising her head. "Odd. I never discounted reincarnation. In fact, some argue that the Slayers themselves are recycled over the years and I never thought twice about it." 

 

"I realize that this could take some time to get used to." He began, only to be cut off by Willow's lips on his own. He sighed, opening his mouth to her very persistent tongue. It was like his dreams, except so much more real. She was here, warm and willing in his arms. Soft and pliable, deliciously delicate. Beautiful. He winced as her fingers found the scars of his cheek, waiting for her to pull away. Juliana had never seen him like this, there was no reason to believe that Willow would be tolerant to it just because she held Juliana's spirit in her soul. 

 

But she didn't flinch, she didn't move away. Her smooth hands caressed the wrinkled and scarred flesh of his cheek as delicately as a mother touching a child, full of love and tenderness. His hands came up to gently rub her back, her cheek, anywhere he could touch and still keep this meeting chaste. 

 

And that was how Xander and the others found them, nearly two hours later.


	13. Part 12

"So - " 

 

Willow raised an eyebrow at the nonchalant expression on her best friend's face, knowing that he was anything but calm and collected at the moment. The sun was shining bright in the sky already and he looked like he had been up all night, waiting for her to wake. He certainly had been right there, ready to pounce on her, the second that she had walked down into the kitchen. 

 

"So?" She smirked, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. She didn't drink coffee. It was nasty stuff and tended to make her far more hyper than she really needed to be. But, that didn't stop her from wanting something nice and warm in the morning. Something like hot chocolate maybe? She reached for the empty teakettle on the counter, filling it partially with water before setting it on the stove. 

 

"Argh!" He sighed in mock-agony. "Wills, c'mon, have mercy on me. I let you go to sleep last night like you asked, but tell me, already. How'd you and Asher end up all smoochie-like last night?" 

 

That brought a smile to her face. Not the question; the memory. Sitting in Asher's arms for hours, feeling their strength around her and knowing she was safe. He would keep her safe. His lips had been gentle despite the times they had spent together in their shared dreams. He had treated her like a china doll that would break in his arms if he even squeezed too hard. 

 

"Earth to Willow." 

 

"Hmm?" She murmured, blinking dreamy eyes at Xander; her brain too memory-crowded to even remember the question he had just asked her. 

 

"Two things, Wills. One: Your water is done. Two: How. Did. You. And. Asher. Hook. Up?" 

 

"Oh!" She jumped, realizing for the first time that the slight whistling noise she had been hearing was, in fact, her water. She pulled the tea kettle from the stove and poured it over the packet of hot chocolate mix she had emptied into her mug. A dash of milk and a spoon later and she was sitting next to Xander, grinning madly. "Well, you see, its like this - " 

 

She launched into the tale, telling him first about the dreams she had been having ever since the night Asher had arrived in town. Those had brought a blush to Xander's face and a few stammered entreaties for her to never give him details like those again. Then she had moved on to telling him about the connection she felt to the vampire, and how she had spoken French like she had been raised speaking it. He was quiet the entire time, nodding ocaisionally to let her know he was still paying attention. Then, when she told him what Asher had mentioned, about herself and Juliana being one and the same, he spoke. 

 

"Huh?" 

 

Okay, so it wasn't the most articulate of things to say. Definitely not smooth. But it summed up what he was feeling at that moment. His little Willow was the reincarnation of some Master Vampire's human servant? And said Master Vampire was now here, in Sunnydale, and had, as of last night, begun to shower Willow in smoochies? 

 

Brain overload. 

 

"Wow, Wills," He mumbled, shaking his head ever so slightly, as though to clear the confusion he was feeling. "That's a lot to handle all at once. Are you sure that this is, I dunno, right? That it isn't some devious vampire trick?" 

 

"Oh, right." Willow snorted. "Because a Vampire would so totally go through all the trouble of setting up this little ruse just to win me over. As if, Xan." 

 

She sipped hesitantly at her hot chocolate, watching the emotions dance across Xander's face. This disturbed him, she could tell; but he wasn't about to go screaming off into the night over it. He'd be okay. So would she. That was just the way things went on the Hellmouth. 

 

"Wow." He repeated. "So - you like him, huh?" 

 

The red head blushed, hiding it by taking another sip from her drink. 

 

"Yeah, Xan, I do. Probably as much as you like Vivian." 

 

That brought a smile to his face. It was like the sun breaking out from behind a patch of dense clouds, the way he lit up at the sound of the female wereleopard's name. His eyes glassed over and a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. 

 

"We're hopeless, you know." She murmured mostly to herself since Xander was lost in memories of his caramel-skinned lover. "They'll be going back to St. Louis as soon as Faith gets out of jail. Distance relationships just don't work." 

 

It was the same thought she had been having on her way home from Asher's mansion the night before, and the same one that had plagued her when she had woken up that morning. When Faith was released the assembled group of supernatural talent would be gone. Back to their homes and their friends. And that would leave herself, and Xander, quite alone, again. It wouldn't have been so bad if they had just made friends with the group. But that hadn't. She had, due mostly to the fact that she seemed to be linked to the long-dead Juliana, fallen very hard for Asher. The idea of him leaving, of her not getting to see him each and every night, hit her like a slam to her chest. 

 

And she knew Xander would feel the same way about Vivian. 

 

"Yeah." Xander frowned. "But, hey, look on the bright side. Faith's in jail for attempted murder. I don't care how good the Council's lawyers are - she'll be there for a while." 

 

A reassuring thought, though still not enough to placate her warring emotions. Faith would come. Asher and the others would leave. Her and Xander would trudge on with the daily chore of life, but lacking in the love they had found in those that had come to enrich their lives. It was heartbreaking, but just the way things went. She couldn't expect Asher to stay there, in Sunnydale, not when he was the right hand man to the Master of St. Louis. She could only imagine that that powerful man wanted Asher back as soon as possible. 

 

"Right, Xan." Willow smiled sadly, patting his hand as reassuringly as possible. "Faith will be in jail for a very long time. You're right." 

 

But somehow her heart told her differently. 

 

~*~*~ 

 

Asher paced the length of the living room, skirting the faint patch of sunlight that had snaked its way in through a semi-parted drape. He had woken unreasonably early that afternoon, far too early for his own tastes considering it left him cooped up and bored in his own home. He longed to call Willow over, to hold her in his arms, breathe in the sweet scent of her body, and taste the honey-kissed flavor of her lips. But that wasn't reasonable. She would be over later she had said; and that was enough for him. He didn't want to scare her off. 

No, he didn't want that at all. 

 

And so his thoughts at that moment were troubled. 

 

The phone call from the Council had come nearly an hour after he had woken. The very unpleasant British man on the other end had told him that their time on the Hellmouth was coming to a close. The other Slayer was being released from the human jail that held her. She'd be there in a few days, ready to take up her post. How the Council had managed it, he hadn't asked. No doubt some sort of legal wrangling that would leave him confused and bored to tears. All that was important was that his time here was drawing to a close. 

 

His time with Willow was coming to an end. 

 

"No." He whispered, shutting his eyes. He had only just found her in truth, how was fate so cruel to take him away again? There was no way he could ask her to come with him, not with her life here, on the Hellmouth. And he couldn't abandon Jean-Claude. It just wasn't fair. 

But life had never been fair to him and it wasn't about to start now. 

So he had made up his mind to at least broach the idea with Willow. To invite her back to St. Louis. Her friend, too, since he seemed so enamored of the young Vivian. It would either end very badly, with her turning him down completely, or very well if she decided to take him up on the offer. He wanted much more from her, of course. The idea of making her his Human Servant had already entered his mind more than once. But none of that had a place in all of this yet. 

 

First things first, see if she will come to St. Louis. 

 

And -then- they could talk of the future and what it held in store for them. 

 

When she was ready, of course.


	14. Part 13

Willow entered the mansion with a sense of trepidation. It hadn't escaped her mind that Asher could quite honestly have rethought everything that had happened between them in the few hours since they had last parted. He was a centuries old vampire and she was just some human witch. What could he possibly see in her when there were countless beauties, probably more powerful than herself, eager to fall at the feet of any Master that wanted them. 

 

She sucked in a breath at the sight that greeted her as she set foot through the doorway. 

 

Moving boxes. Draped furniture. It looked as though the house were being packed up. 

 

"What -- ?" Her voice was a whisper in the cavernous space of the living room. Even with Xander right next to her she suddenly felt so alone. There was only one thing this could mean. She felt a tightness begin in her chest. 

 

"The Council called." Asher spoke up from the shadows. "They have obtained Faith's release. She has promised to be a good little girl and protect the Hellmouth. Her new Watcher will be coming soon. She will be here in two days." 

 

Those were the words Willow had not wanted to hear. She felt her knees grow weak with shocked sadness. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes and began spilling over, falling in great big wet drops down her cheeks. She sniffled and then began to sob outright, feeling as though her heart were being torn right from her chest. How could life be this cruel? She had known that Asher would have to leave eventually. But why this soon? When they were just getting to know each other? It felt as though her thoughts that afternoon had been a premonition of sorts, a subconscious warning that her good life was about to be torn away. 

Again. 

 

"Willow -" Asher began. He blinked in surprise when she shook her head and ran crying from the mansion. Out into the darkness. Out into the Hellmouth. Someone would have to go after her. He couldn't bear to do it himself. To see her crying when it was, assuredly, his fault. His fault for coming into her life and then leaving. If only she knew how hard this was for him, too. If only he could have at least made his proposition to her before she ran away. "Gregory. Stephen. Would you please go make sure that she makes it safely back to wherever it is she wishes to be?" 

 

Xander watched the two wereleopards go, his own heart feeling near to breaking. Vivian was leaving. She wouldn't be in Sunnydale anymore. Just when he had found someone that he really thought he could spend the rest of his life with, she was being taken away. 

 

"I was going to ask her, both of you," Asher whispered, bending his head so that his hair fell to cover the scarred half of his face. His voice sounded dead, lost, even to himself. "If you wanted to come with us." 

 

"She'll be back." Xander sighed. Then his face lit up, as though he were hearing Asher's words for the first time. "You want us to come with you?" 

 

The vampire smiled sadly. "I know there's little chance of it. This is your home. But you are both welcome for us. If you do not mind living with the monsters." 

 

"Monsters?" Now Xander was confused. "What monsters? Do you guys have odd pets or something?" 

 

"Monsters." Vivian cut in. "As in us. Vampires. Werewolves. Etcetera." 

 

The young man shook his head. "Who told you guys you were monsters? I've seen much scarier. More dangerous, too. You guys are just, I dunno, people with lifestyle issues." 

 

Cherry laughed, the sound filling the large room. 

 

"That has to be the cutest way I've ever heard that put. Maybe you can teach Anita a thing or two?" She smirked , standing up and stretching. The net shirt she was wearing rode up high on her stomach, exposing the flesh, before she smoothed it down again. Before he met Vivian that would have been a turn-on for Xander. Now, though mildly thrilling, it wasn't nearly as provocative as it once would have been. And he had learned during his association with the pack and pard members that showing a little skin really wasn't much of an issue. They slept together naked, for the most part. "I'm gonna go finish packing. You should go find her and tell her Asher, before she comes to all the wrong conclusions." 

 

"That's a good idea." Xander nodded. "Knowing my Wills she's already come to a bad conclusion. She's probably planning her goodbye to you right as we speak, even. And the last thing she wants to do is say goodbye to you." 

 

~*~*~ 

 

"I just want to thank you for giving me those nights of happiness." Willow whispered to herself, picturing her blonde haired lover in her mind. "I will cherish them for the rest of my life - those dreams made me feel like I was special. Like I had a reason to be happy again." 

 

Her lower lip began trembling before she could even finish her whispered thought. This was it. Asher was leaving. Her worst nightmare had come true less than twenty-four hours since its realization. She stopped on the sidewalk, bending her head down and sobbing uncontrollably. 

 

"Willow!" 

Her head snapped up. Gregory and Stephen were running towards her, their faces worried with a hint of relief. 

 

"You know it's not safe to wander off at night." Stephen admonished her. "You could get attacked." 

 

Willow shrugged, her lips sealed tight with pain. 

 

"Why'd you run away?" This time it was Gregory asking. Amazing how quickly she'd learned to tell the two of them apart. 

 

"No reason." The red head whispered, turning her back on them. "I'll be okay, guys. Go back to the house. Tell Xander not to worry about me." 

 

"But -" 

 

"You may return to the mansion." 

 

She didn't have to turn around to know that Asher had joined them, though her heart longed to turn and jump into his arms. It would be so much easier if she began to distance herself from him now. While there was still a chance. 

 

But there wasn't a chance of that now, was there? She was head over heels in love with him, had been for so long because of those dreams and was destined to be until the end of her life if she truly shared the spirit of Juliana. And last night they had been together. Not in the sinful way of a man and woman, but in the sweet way of lovers that have been reunited after so long. That's what it had felt like, a coming home. Being in his arms felt like she had found something she had never known was lost. 

 

"Willow. Turn to me, please?" 

 

She shook her head 'no', forcing herself to be strong. 

 

Asher sighed. Moving quickly, as was his true nature, he was in front of her before she could even take another sobbing breath. He placed two fingers beneath her chin, forcing her head up. 

 

{Would you miss me that much, my darling one?} 

 

{Of course!} She sobbed, answering in the French that was native to her soul, if not to her most current memories. Her pain was too great for her to wonder at the novelty of speaking and understanding a language she had never even studied. 

 

{Then why do you not come with me? You can still come back and visit your family, after all --} 

 

He was cut off then, as an ecstatic red head leapt into his arms, smothering every inch of his face that she could reach with the most delicate of kisses. 

 

"Do you mean it?" She breathed, her eyes shining. "I can come with you?" 

 

"Did you really think I could leave you here?" 

 

She smiled. And then. "But - what about Xander?" 

 

"He has already accepted my invitation." 

 

"Oh." She blushed. That's what she got for running out of the house as a hysterical mess. "Well, then. I think we should get back to the house. You have packing to do. And, so do I. Xander, too." Her face was flushed with happiness. 

 

Asher looked down into her face, smiling. It was a genuine smile, the kind he had smiled often since he had met her and not very much before then. It was the kind borne of complete happiness, something he had not experienced in many, many years. But now, things were looking up. 

Definitely looking up.


	15. Part 14

Dawn, 

 

Hey heartbreaker. How're things goin' with your Dad and his wife? Good, I hope. I know you were planning on coming to see me and Xander in a couple months. Well, brace yourself. You're gonna have to come to St. Louis to do it. That's right. Me and Xan are leaving Sunnydale. Now - you may be asking why, and I'll ask that you sit down for the explanation. 

 

We fell in love. 

 

No! Not me and Xander. Well, yes, in a way. But not with each other, mind you. With different people. One of the wereleopards and Xander hit it off. Big time. He dumped Anya. Or, she dumped him. Busted his lip open. Otherwise she was okay with the whole thing. No worries of future vengeance from her to us. 

 

I hope, anyway. 

 

And me, well, it seems I'm like the reincarnation of some big powerful Master vampire's human servant from way back in the days of yore. Pretty cool/freaky, huh? 

 

So, we're off to live in sin with them in St. Louis. I know you'll have a blast when you come. Get to hang out with werewolves and vampires. It'll be just like the Sunnydale days. 

 

Faith is out of jail and is watching over the Hellmouth. Try to stay away. I know you like to visit your old friends, sometimes, but we all know how much of a loose cannon she is. I'd hate to have to come back and kick her little skank butt because she hurt you, Dawnie.

 

Anyway - what about you? Are you still dating that Andrew guy? Be sure not to break his heart like you did for Jason and Rob. And Scott and David. Whew. You've had more boyfriends in the past few months than I've had in my whole life! 

 

Stay safe and well. 

 

Xander and I love you forever! 

 

I'll write to you once we get settled in. 

 

All my love, 

Willow 

 

~*~*~ 

 

Spike, 

 

Just droppin' you a line to let you know that me and Xander are leaving Sunnydale. Faith is taking over her Slayer duties. Just so you and Angel know to steer clear of Sunnydale unless you want to run into her royal sluttiness. If she stakes you I'll have to kill her. And I don't know if I'm up to all that. 

 

So just stay away from her. For me? K? 

 

As for Xander and me? We're moving to St. Louis. Remember that totally hot Frenchie I told you about? Well - we're a thing now. And, before you threaten to come kick his undead butt, just don't. He treats me good and would never hurt me. Hold Angel down and don't let him come do anything stupid, either. Asher is a good guy, er, vampire. You know what I mean. He's one of the best I've ever met. Next to you and Angel, of course. 

 

I'll send you the new address when we get there. Give my love to Angel. 

 

Love, 

Willow 

 

~*~*~ 

 

Willow placed the flowers on Buffy's grave, looking across the sky to the half moon that was so high in the sky. It wasn't very bright, but gave just enough light for her to look down on the inscription on the headstone and remember the day they had placed the blonde haired Slayer in the ground. It seemed so long ago. Finally, though, the pain was receding. She could stand here and not break down into a crying wreck. 

And that was a good thing. 

 

"I'll come back and bring you new flowers in a couple months, sweetie." She whispered to the night air. "We love you. But we can't stay here anymore. Not with Faith in town. She's changed but there's too much past between us all. And we fell in love. I wish you were here to see it, Buffy. I'm dating a Master Vampire. Little, mousy, Willow finally got herself an undead hottie. He even mentioned making me his Human Servant one day if I like. Sorta coming full circle and all that." 

 

"Xander and Vivian are so cute. You would have liked her so much more than we ever liked Anya. Not that we really liked Anya at all, mind you. We all sorta put up with her, didn't we? Those were the days." 

 

She sighed and stood, brushing the dirt from the knees of her jeans. 

 

"I know you're betters off wherever you are, Buffy. We just miss you so, so much." 

 

Tears flowed gently down her face as she turned her back on the grave. In the distance Asher waited patiently for her to say her goodbyes. He had a worried look on his face and she knew she'd be getting lots of cuddles very shortly. A private plane was waiting to take them away. 

 

To St. Louis. 

 

To their new lives.


End file.
